


Best Guess

by dollarpound



Category: Red Dwarf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 05:16:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10181489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollarpound/pseuds/dollarpound
Summary: Our heroes are finally about to be reunited with their ship, Lister’s arm is on the mend and Holly is back.  So things can finally get back to normal.  After the usual complications....





	

Something strange had happened to Lister. Not some weird-sci-fi-ey smeg, something far stranger than that. Lister had slept – he had had a really good night’s sleep. He felt incredible. The last few days had been kind of rough on him. He’d been molested by a zombie, infected with a virus and lost his arm. 

Not only that but he was still processing sacrificing the love of his life for the good of dimensions unknown. It was the kind of tragic heroism Lister excelled in, but it took its toll. He hadn’t been sleeping or eating properly, his mind was a tangle of dreams, drunken reveries, alternative dimensions, hallucinations... he was the centre of some cosmic drama.

Lister had been on a binge. The reason the Marijuana Gin had lasted all these millions of years was because Chen had bought it for Lister as a joke. It was a pointless combination of substances, a chocolate teapot novelty paradox. But having polished off its contents a while ago, the nasty hangover symptoms had gradually subsided leaving a pleasant stoned afterglow, marijuana staying in the system a lot longer than alcohol. 

Holly was back, the nanos were rebuilding Lister’s arm and his ship. If you squinted, you could see the small rouge one slowly coagulating out of thin air in the distance. As he slept his arm had regrown to the elbow, making it much easier to get comfortable in his bunk.

He felt so happy. He had this stupid tune stuck in his head: *To Ganymede and Titan, yes sir I’ve been around / but there ain’t no place in the whole of space like good old toddlin’ town*. It span round and round in this viciously joyous circle, echoing and overlapping in his mind like a crazy sugar-rush merry-go-round you couldn’t stop.

Lister’s Schneiberhouser was engorged and bulbous and had this beautiful boner bouquet. His body and mind felt perfect. *To Ganymede and Titan...* He got up and took a good yawn and stretch...

‘Flippin’ hell, you nearly had my eye out there!’

‘Holl!!’ doubleexclaimed Dave, hastily covering his erection with an old Red Dwarf blanket.

‘Is that an erect penis in your pocket or are just so pleased to see me you brought me a banana? Hang-on... how’s it go again?’

‘Holl!’ repeated Dave.

‘It’s nice to have company...’ 

Dave shook his head, throwing his cotton longjohns over Holly’s screen, climbing into the shower cubicle and bursting into song. *To Ganymede and Titan yes sir I’ve been around* 

‘...it’s no fun being the only head with a mind of its own on board,’ finished Holly. And it was no fun being smothered in Dave’s longjohns, so he decided to check on Cat. 

*Tongue tied, tongue tied, ningy nongy, durble dobby* Cat was singing as he stood butt naked surrounded by mirrors, holding up various outfits and admiring himself. Cat was happy as hell. He couldn’t wait to get back to the Dwarf.

‘Hey, pixelated monkeyhead!’ said Cat, unselfconscious about his nudity.

‘Alright, Cat. Need any advice?’

‘About clothes? From a talking head? Like what kind of hat to wear?’

‘I resent the implication that just because I don’t have a body I don’t know anything about clothes.’

‘Why?’ asked Cat, simply.

‘Alright, you got me,’ said Hol.

‘Why don’t you help robomop select a head. We found a bunch of spares on the planetoid.’

*Androids, everybody needs good androids* sang Kryten, doing the special hand movements like a true fan.

‘Ew!’ said Hol, disgustedly.

‘Ah, hello Holly,’ said Kryten, goodnaturedly, ‘how are you settling in?’

‘Better than that head on that body! Talk about a mismatch...’

‘You really think?’ said Kryten to his AI-in-arms.

‘No, you should really go for spare head 2, look how twinkly he is,’ said Holly.

‘Thanks, Holl,’ said Kryten. Kryten had a friend. This small bit of advice over which identical head to screw on meant a lot to him.

‘Thanks, Holl,’ said Spare Head 2. He’d been waiting several hundred years for a body – it meant a lot to him, too. 

Kryten’s current head apologised to itself and to all the other heads which had began bickering for attention. ‘Now, now,’ he said ‘you’ll all get a turn soon.’ *Androids have feelings, too* he continued to sing. But it was clashing with a tune stuck in Holly’s head: Someone to Watch Over Me, an old standard Rimmer used to cry himself to sleep singing. He tried to get away from this mash-up by cutting to the midsection, where Kochanski was drinking tea and reading Jane Austen.

‘Alright, Kris, sleep well?’

‘Oh, hi Hol. No actually, I’ve had less sleep than Margaret Thatcher on speed.’

‘Careful with that, you know how lack of sleep makes you more conservative. You’ll end up more rightwing than Rimmer having a fascist meltdown.’

*Arnold, Arnold, Arnold Rimmer, without him life would be much dimmer* sang Kochanski.

‘How come you can’t sleep anyway, I fixed the pipes for you and everything.’

‘That’s the problem. I finally got used to the pipes nureeking and squiloopling, now I can’t sleep in silence. It feels awkward. Then I got this stupid Rimmer song stuck in my head and I can’t shake it.’

‘Well you’re not a lamb lost in the wood with that one,’ said Holly, quoting the song stuck in his head accidently.

‘What?’

‘I mean you’re not alone with that problem. Sorry about the pipes, I was trying to help.’

‘I know, Holl.’ Kochanski liked having him around and felt bad about how they’d boosted the Hol in her own dimension with so many plugins and bolt on updates that they’d diluted his charming core program.

‘Why don’t you take a whiff from Cat’s book and have a nap?’

cCO

Lister’s bot was far from nano, and he liked it that way. He felt the hot water pummel his body, which the nanos had returned to his preferred body mass index. He hated being a muscle man. He felt so wound up and cumbersome. ‘*There ain’t no place in the whole of space* ah, smeg off, will you?’ he said to his own mind which couldn’t extricate itself from this irritating circular melody.

He stepped out the shower and wrapped himself in a fluffy white Red Dwarf towel. *Girl you got me tongue-tied, ningy-nongy...* sang Cat as he passed Lister’s sleeping quarters. Lister tried to join in but couldn’t concentrate on the words because he had his own tune stuck in his head. He towelled himself off and chucked on his pink negligee and fluffy bunny slippers. 

In the midsection he found Cat, polishing off the second round of grilled toast, Kochanski, perfectly made up in her improbably red pvc space uniform and high heels, finishing her Earl Grey and reading Farther Thoughts on Tar Water by George Berkeley, and Kryten, grilling the third round of toast and singing the Androids theme tune with appropriate hand gestures.

*To Ganymede and Titan...* sang Lister, cheerfully decanting a glass of OJ from a jug, and then drinking from the jug. ‘What’s happening everybody? Where you at?’ Everyone looked kind of preoccupied. Kochanski was kind of rocking back and forth a bit as she fiercely concentrated on her book – an exposition of the benefits of tar water written by a 18th century Irish Bishop. 

Cat was sit down dancing and admiring himself in a spoon, which was actually typical but what wasn’t was Kryten had let the third round burn because he was too busy doing the hand actions for the Androids theme. They grilled the toast because it had been deemed an emotional health risk to use toasters.

‘Oh, spin my navel nut and send me to Luxembourg! I’ve only gone and burnt the toast!’

‘You seem a bit preoccupied, mate, said Lister,’ taking a glug of OJ... ‘but I’ll tell you one thing though...’ he said, swiping a piece of burnt toast and taking a cheeky bight.

‘What’s that? Durble Dobby,’ squealed the Cat, gyrating to the beat of a different drummer.

‘*There ain’t no place in the whole of space like good old toddlin’ town!*’ finaled Lister. Except the tune never finaled. That was the nightmare. Kochanski slammed her book closed and staring straight ahead began to murmur ‘Rimmer, Swimmer, Arnold Rimmer, Dimmer, Brimmer’ faster and faster, and then finally ‘Squiloople!’. Dave was made of sterner stuff. Namely nanobots which were rebuilding his arm and hopefully, his ship, had given his system an extra boost helping him sleep and recover so they could work on his arm in peace.

‘What’s the prognoses, Krytes?’

‘The ship should be ready by exactly the time we reach it. And so should your arm, sir.’

‘Why’re they taking so long?’

‘Er, they’ve unionised, sir...’

‘Good, I don’t want anyone to be exploited.’

‘The only thing we have to worry about is some minor league space junk gyre we’re heading towards, but Mr Cat doesn’t usually seem to have any problem slaloming through anything. Isn’t that right Mr Cat?’

Mr Cat, usually attentive to the slightest compliment regardless of its intention, remained unmoved, staring straight ahead and repeating *Durble, dobby* over and over...

‘We’ll be back in the Red quicker than you on planet leave, sir.’ 

*To Ganymede and Titan..* *Tongue tied, tongue tied...* *Arnold, Arnold, Rimmer, Rimmer* *Androids, everybody needs good androids...*

‘Hey, Hol, how come we all got tunes stuck in our heads?’ asked Kochanski, momentarily snapping out of her trance. It was like they were all wearing invisible headphones linked to different sources.

Holly cleared his throat and preceded to sing: *I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood/ I know I could, always be good/ To one who'll watch over me...*

Lister was suddenly moved. Wasn’t this Rimmer’s sad song he used to sing himself? It suddenly had a different meaning now, after what had happened.

*Although he may not be the man some/ Girls think of as handsome/ To my heart he carries the key*

What if Rimmer loved him, too, all along, and still left to be Ace. It was like Rimmer was singing through Holly, directly at him. He needed to be alone suddenly, so he snuck out, everyone way too distracted to notice anyway.

‘Best guess,’ responded Kryten to Kochanski’s question ‘we may have brought GELFs on board by accident from the planet’s surface.’

‘What kind of GELFs?’ asked Kochanski, almost suspiciously.

‘WORMs, ma’am. Weapons Of Repetitive Music Simulation. They must have crawled into our ears and burrowed into our brains at some point. Red Dwarf’s medibay has the equipment we need to deal with them, till then, we must concentrate, lest a stray piece of space junk knocks us-‘ BANG! The ship was violently smashed at that moment, chucking the Dwarfers and their toast all over the bug.

While Kryten started fussing around, trying to retrieve the toast and put it back in the toast rack, Cat handed Kochanski an apple. Their hands did not touch in this transfer, but Kochanski felt the thrill of Cat’s touch through the apple as their eyes met, two sets of eyes so soft and open they just melted into each other.

‘That space-junk’s knocked us out of the park, we’re more off course than a mouldy pudding,’ said Holl.

‘We better get in that cockpit quicker than you can say-‘ and then he made a really high squeaky sound.

‘Than you can say *what*?’ asked Holl.

‘Exactly,’ said Kryten.

‘Stop wasting time, it’s those WORMs, we’re concentrating less than a homeopathy clinic,’ said Kochanski.

‘That metaphor was more stretched than the Universe wearing one of my lycra G-strings,’ said Cat 

‘Those tunes get stuck in your head like honey-covered velcro, don’t they?’ said Holly.

Kryten was still trying to retrieve the toast, whilst periodically breaking into the Androids hand movements, sending the toast flying. ‘We need you in that pilot seat, Mr Cat,’ he said. ‘There’s more junk out there than there is in Mr Lister’s jock strap.’

‘He’s right,’ said Kochanski. ‘Lister’s well hung. No, I mean, you’ve more controlling than Kryten in a jealousy fit when you pilot this scrapheap.’ As Cat settled into his station, Kryten was still trying to retrieve the toast, but the ship was shaking violently and the burnt brittle slices kept breaking into bits.

‘The ship’s more damaged than Rimmer,’ chipped in Holly as Kochanski joined Cat in the cockpit. They loaded the diagnostics onto her work station, but Holly’s mention of Rimmer just triggered the Rimmer song off in her head again and she couldn’t think straight. Cat handed her another juicy apple.

‘Mmmm, I loves me an apple,’ she said, bighting into its perfectly tart, crunchy flesh.

‘Look out, there’s a piece of space junk that’s shinier than a freshly minted-‘ BANG! went the junk. ‘-pennycent. How could you miss it?’

‘It’s my ear WORM,’ said Cat, ‘it’s making it harder to focus than some greasy binoculars. Apple?’ 

‘Mmmm, I loves them apples,’ she said. Recently, Kochanski had been reevaluating her relationships with the Cat. They had a lot in common. She was estranged from her home dimension, him from his species. They both took pride in their appearance and took care of themselves regardless of their situation. Plus she had come to realise that he wasn’t as shallow as he seemed, possessing a unique feline wisdom that brought unexpected insight to their goldfish pedicure heart to hearts.

‘Kryten, what the smeg are you doing? We need all hands on deck here! Look out there’s a piece of junk that’s bigger than Jesus,’ BANG! ‘and the Beatles combined!’

‘I will achieve this! I will achieve this!’ repeated Kryten anxiously selotaping the increasingly small bights of toast together and trying to arrange them in a rack.

‘Kryten?’ shouted Cat over his shoulder ‘Why are we saying everything in the form of elaborate metaphors? It’s making communication slower than tantric sex in a stasis booth.’

‘Best guess, we’ve been bitten by MICE,’ said Kryten, doing the Android theme hand movements.

‘Are you saying, that I, Cat, was bitten by a mouse.’

‘No, sir, by a MICE, or Metaphor Inducing Creaturely Entities. Once you’ve been bit it’ll take longer to get your point out than a scuba diver on a toilet break...’ Cat had become aware of a huge mirrored piece of spacejunk slowly rolling into view. He was arrested by his own beauty, unable to do anything but stare, while Tongue Tied drifted through his consciousness over and over and Starbug drifted towards certain death.

Kochanski didn’t notice because she too was entranced by Cat’s beauty as she thoughtfully bit into her apple. Wait a minute – apple? They didn’t have apples. Something strange and GELFy was going on. 

‘Hey Kryten, why are you wasting so much time on that pointlessly Sisyphean task anyway?’ asked Holl.

‘Sisyphean! Apples! Of course!’ She suddenly dived onto Cat’s controls, saving the Bug from annihilation.

‘Kryten! We’ve been hacked by myths: how could this have happened?’

‘Hmm. Best guess, MIDGES: Myth IDentifying Genetically Engineered Stingers. Lifeforms capable of finding the best mythological fit for a given victim’s psyche, and pushing its logic to its tragic limit.’

‘This ship is infested with more acronyms than one of Mr Rimmer’s tedious health and safety sessions!’ said Kochanski. Finally her classical education had come in handy on this tin can of briny philistines. ‘Cat is Narcissus, endangering himself by being entranced with his own beauty because the MIDGES sensed his vanity. Kryten, Sisyphus, engaged in some endless, pointless task because the MIDGES knew he was a domestic.’

‘What about you?’ asked Kryten.

‘Like Atlanta, I’ve been slowing us down because I’ve been hallucinating apples. The MIDGES sensed my weakness for my Dave,’ she finished, concealing her love for the Cat.

‘All these WORMS and MICE and MIDGES still don’t answer one question.’

‘What?’ said Kochanski.

‘Where’s gerbil chops?’ asked Cat.

‘Dave!’ cried Kochanski running through the turbulent ship. 

cCO

Lister was on his own in the store room, having a moment amongst Rimmer’s shoe trees and the golf clubs from Tregar-16, when the space junk slapped the ship right off course. Dust and grit showered him sticking to the tears on his face. Only this morning he’d felt ecstatic, felt like things were on the brink of sorting themselves out... 

He couldn’t understand how someone in such a tragic situation could be so contented, even if it only lasted through breakfast. I mean he’d lost the love of his life in the very process of learning he was the love of his life. And now he was stranded on this ship his crewmates couldn’t even navigate through rubbish. 

Thing about Rimmer was he was his worst enemy. He’d taken the role over from his father, who physically tortured him as a child. This experience had had the effect on him of identifying with the very power structures that had messed up his father and his life. Rimmer was really a sensitive, strong, intelligent person but he’d spent his life putting on a show, for noone’s benefit but his infinitely demanding Superego, that proved it was impossible for him to live up to his father’s expectations.

This was perfectly obvious anyway, and didn’t need to be endlessly reiterated least of all in post-societal deep space, but his psyche was addicted to it, making him mean and bitter because he didn’t understand why he was being put through all this stuff – not realising the source was himself. Lister knew he had it in him to get over himself, and how powerful and heroic he became when he did because of how he saved the crew’s necks by blowing up the time drive and hitting off the crew’s descent into fascism.

That’s why he skilfully nurtured him towards becoming the new Ace through a combination of reverse psychology and swordsmanship. And now he was smeg knows where, saving the Universe one more time. And Dave was here, staring down into the abyss beyond the rusty railings of the gantry. It was weird how roomy this section of the bug was, Kryten assuring them that it was dimensional anomalies, which was about as convincing as a red latex mining ship uniform or his will to live.

‘Dave! Don’t jump! You don’t understand what’s happened to you.’

‘What?’ said Dave. Kochanski had appeared far below him, by the buggy they’d taken to the planetoid.

‘You’ve been bitten my MIDGES. Kryten reckons we’ve been floating through some kind of test site for weaponised GELFS. All this spacejunk, it’s an obstacle course to see which creatures are the most hazardous to deploy!’ Their voices echoed round the rusty hull.

‘Well that’s not gonna bring him back is it? I’ll never see him again! I’m more racked than Kryten’s toast.’ 

‘Lister! Listen to yourself! The ridiculous metaphors, its all part of it, all part of the effect these GELF stowaways are having on us!’

‘No, this is different. You don’t understand, that happened before with the Despair Squid. This is real. There’s nothing to live for.’

‘Lister you’re Oedipus!’

‘This is hardly the time to go laying into my personal hygiene,’ shouted down Dave.

‘Not odorous, *Oedipus*!’

‘Oedipus! Wasn’t he that that Greek dude who shagged his Mum and killed his Dad?’

‘Exactly!’ said Kochanski, gaining ground. But just then they were hit by more spacejunk, Lister slipped, and tried to stop himself falling by grabbing the rail with his right hand. The problem was Lister’s right hand hadn’t regrown. The nanos hadn’t got round to that yet, they’d treated themselves to a four second weekend. Lister slid under the railings and hurtled towards the parking bay below. 

‘Nooooooo!’ screamed Kochanski.

cCO

No sooner had Kochanski left the cockpit then a huge snarling wolf appeared in the doorway.

‘What the *hell* is that?’ screamed Cat, leaping into his chair.

‘Hmmm,’ said Kryten ponderously. ‘Best Guess it’s a wolf, sir....’ Holly and Cat waited for the break down of what WOLF stood for but none was forthcoming.

‘Oh dear,’ said Kryten. Suddenly the wolf pounced, digging it’s jaws into Cat’s leg.

‘My shoe, my shoe!’ he screamed as the creature savaged him. The ship was suddenly spun around by another massive impact. The gravity cut out and Kryten blew the wolf’s head off with a bazookoid leaving them and selected gore floating round the cockpit.

cCO

Lister bounced softly off the floor of the loading bay and into Kochanski’s arms, where he promptly burst into tears. The gravity cut in again and they fell a small distance to the ground.

‘There, there, silly,’ she said. Lister couldn’t stop sobbing.

‘Ah, Mr Lister,’ said Kryten, ‘you must come immediately. Cat needs to borrow some of your nanos I’m afraid. He’s in the medibay.’ 

Lister just thought Kryten was just trying to break them up. Seeing them cradling each other on the floor had probably been misconstrued by his jealousy chip. But sure enough there was his old pal Cat lying on the medibunk, missing half his left leg. Lister understood immediately what was required of him.

‘Ready to do the old Kinatwawe handshake, Bud?’ Cat nodded bravely. Lister leaned over, unbandaged his arm and plugging his arm stump into Cat’s legstump, releasing some of the healing nanobots into Cat’s body.

As a computer, Holly wasn’t really affected by mice, midges, wolves or worms. The fact they had a tune stuck in their head that morning must have been a coincidence. This was the second time Holly had stopped Dave killing himself due to the interventions of genetically engineered lifeforms. It mystified him what you had to do to get a thankyou round here.


End file.
